"We can consciously end our life almost anytime we choose. This ability is an endowment - like laughing and blushing - given to no other animal....In any given moment, by not exercising the option of suicide, we are choosing to live".
I received a telephone call the other morning from a sweet young man who used to be my stepson when I was married to his father. He informed me that my ex-husband Eddie, had taken his own life, shooting himself with a pistol. Apparently, he had planned it, had even made arrangements with a funeral home for immediate cremation following his death. So sad and so unfair to his children, and to his grandchildren. Jeff and his siblings had no indication that their father planned on taking his own life so they were devastated and had many unanswered questions, as survivors always do when suicide is the cause of death. Eddie was not close to his children ever, he blamed it on a divorce from their mother; and we all know that is not a good reason not to see your children. Actually, Eddie had distanced himself from everyone, living alone and having nothing to do with his time. It's funny, but when someone dies, we forget the bad times we had with them, the arguments, disagreements, unkind words said in anger. We remember only the good things, the happy times we had together. Death is so forgiving, is it not?
"Death is more universal than life - everyone dies but not everyone lives."
I remember the first time I ever laid eyes on Eddie, I thought that he was incredibly handsome, which he was. We only dated for a very short time before getting married, which in retrospect, was a mistake. The marriage was good for the first couple of years, we did everything together, comfortable in each other's company. It didn't take me long to realize that Eddie had very few friends in his life. He was quite the loner, it took him a long time to form attachments for anyone. After several years I also noticed how he was interested in World War II, wishing that he had lived during that time. He lived so much in the past, he began to slowly lose interest in the future.
He hated socializing, preferring to stay at home, or be with me alone. He decided to retire at a very young age, wanted to move to Florida, which we had visited several times to see his parents. Loving Florida, I agreed. In hindsight, retiring was the worst possible thing for him to do. For a while, having a new home demanded a lot of his time, establishing a new lawn, making a rock garden and things like that. He went to every gun and knife show as well, he always had a fascination with firearms. He made our huge garage into a workroom, where he could work on his guns and knives. He even had a television in it. He would disappear into his workroom for hours at a time. It wasn't long before he began multiple somatic complaints about his health. This led us to doctor after doctor, test after test, to find out that nothing was physically wrong with him. I remember once, after a test when the doctor told him he was in perfect health, he broke down and cried, convinced that he was dying. He then began withdrawing more and more into himself and to shut me out. I was still working fulltime as a nurse and I knew that what he was suffering from was severe depression, but he wouldn't hear of that. I attributed this to early retirement without any plan for hobbies, projects or other outlets to occupy his time. I suggested that he get a parttime job to give himself something to look forward to. He would apply for a job, be hired, and at the last minute, decide not to take it. Doctors then prescribed Ativan to deal with his anxiety, what a mistake that was. He took large amounts of it, convincing himself that it was okay since the doctor prescribed it. He began to retreat ever more into himself, hiding money, isolating himself in his workroom and our marriage began to disintegrate,
"Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live".
Unable to heal the marriage or Eddie, we decided to divorce. He moved back to Michigan and I remained in Florida for another 3 years before moving back. Just a year or so ago, I was shopping at a local mall. There was Eddie, sitting on a bench at the mall, people watching. Most likely, he was trying to kill time, having nothing else to do. He noticed me, and I began to smile, bearing no hard feelings. I intended to tell him about the different things that had occurred since I last saw him. He got up, walked away, totally ignoring me. I let it go, attributing it to his anger from the divorce and his habit of self-isolation.
The next thing I heard about Eddie was the fact that he had taken his own life. Initially, I was shocked. Then I began to think it through and was not surprised. He was never truly at peace with himself, formed few friendships and ever fewer loving relationships. He preferred living in the past to living in the present, having no appreciation for all of the joys around him. His children wanted his love, he rarely allowed it. He was emotionally vacant in his relationships with women, shutting them out, allowing no one in. I wish that he had dealt with his depression and loneliness instead of picking up a gun and killing himself. Too bad they can't put depression and loneliness as a cause of death.
Myself, I "will not go gently in that good night, I will rage, rage against the dying of the light" (Dylan Thomas) And I will, Eddie. I want to see every sunset, feel every morning breeze against my face, smell every fragrant flower, and hug my children and grandchildren close to my breast for as long as possible. Life is so precious and so incredibly short. I wish that you could have found that Eddie, so go peacefully into the night and find the peace in heaven that you could not find in your lifetime. You will be missed, and despite everything you tried to hide from, you were so loved.
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